


Love Us As We Are

by Inbredipus



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inbredipus/pseuds/Inbredipus
Summary: Death doesn't end things, not always. Not this time.





	Love Us As We Are

**Author's Note:**

> I really fucking like Brokeback Mountain. I really fucking like Jack. I'm... I'm still recovering from that movie.  
> Title taken from "The Queer Gospel" because I really like that song ok.

It felt like a dream.

Ennis didn’t remember how he’d gotten to the cabin; it was a small one, surrounded by dense forests that smelled like a distant summer - smoke and whiskey and cool mountain air. He trailed listlessly after a strange being with a few too many eyes, listening half-heartedly to its inane chattering. The creature spoke quickly, and in a tongue that Ennis consciously didn’t recognize but that still seemed to organize itself into meaning in Ennis’ head.

A few leaves blew about idly as the creature walked up the creaky porch steps, Ennis standing at the bottom like a lost spirit. The creature finally turned to address him directly.

“This is it.” It gestured to the wooden door as if expecting Ennis to know what was on the other side. Ennis blinked a few times, adjusting his hat.

“Oh, for crying ou- This is where your soulmate is. Didn’t you get this explained to you?” After Ennis shook his head, mind reeling a bit from the word ’soulmate’, the creature pulled a small device out of its white robes. It fiddled with it a bit before scowling and shoving it back into its pocket.

“Great,” the creature mumbled, wiping its hands on its robe despite them not being all that dirty, at least not by Ennis’ standards. “Well, first thing’s first, I guess: you’re dead.”

So, it was definitely a dream. Great. Ennis shoved his hands into his jean pockets and pulled his lips into a thin line. He normally didn’t feel this aware during dreams, but, then again, he rarely had dreams that weren’t out-and-out nightmares. Though, if he was dead in this dream, it probably counted as a nightmare.

“Oy, pay attention,” the creature snapped, all of its many eyes narrowing into glares.

“‘m sorry,” Ennis mumbled, staring at the ground. He felt oddly sheepish around the creature, like he was talking to someone older than him.

“Good. Well, you’re dead, covered that… Uh, jeez, this is not my department,” the creature mumbled, tapping its chin in what was apparently deep thought. “Fucking intake was supposed to go over this shit with you. I will have Azrael's ass for this.”

Ennis glanced up at the creature, apparently a bit surprised at its choice of language; Ennis rarely cursed, and that tendency followed him even in his sleep. No matter how terrifying his dreams could be, they never spoke with invectives like this. Still, the harsh language was a bit comforting. Reminded him of a better time.

“Damn, Sariel, ya gotta voice ta wake the dead,” a familiar voice said from the now-open cabin doorway, punctuating the statement with a laugh. Ennis froze, still staring at the ground.

Now that was just cruel, giving him a dream like this, giving him a dream with Jack.

“Oh, great, you’re here. You explain this to him.” The creature - Sariel, apparently - seemed a bit relieved at the prospect of not having to deal with whatever explanation it was supposed to provide.

“Explain what ta who?”

“Ugh, just… He’s dead, you’re dead, and you’re soulmates. How hard is that to explain?”

“Not that hard, ‘cuz ya jus’ did it.” Ennis could hear the familiar snark in Jack’s voice, and smiled despite himself.

Sariel groaned. “Fuck it, I’m done. And you,” the creature pointed to Ennis, “You have weird taste.” And then, it was gone, leaving Ennis staring at the dirt.

There was an odd silence as Ennis tried to weigh the pros and cons of staying in the dream a bit longer. On the plus side, he could be with Jack for a little while, even if he wasn’t really with him. On the downside, he would still wake up alone, and Ennis didn’t want to add any more longing to that pain. There was still the flickering memory of a dead body skulking around the edges of his consciousness that was nagging at him, telling him that even entertaining the idea was a bad idea, but Ennis had also realized by now that Jack was a bad idea that he would entertain every time. Steeling himself, he looked up from under the brim of his hat.

Jack looked the same as he had during that fateful summer, all lean muscle and callouses and thick, black hair. He had on a slightly crooked grin, his thumbs in his belt loops and his eyes grabbing at Ennis’ own. He even had that ridiculous belt buckle on, the one he had won in a rodeo. He looked like the best time of Ennis’ life. Part of Ennis’ heart panged at that, at what he had lost - no, what he had given up: the promise of a life with this man. The creature from before had said they were soulmates; perhaps this was Ennis’ heart’s way of saying “you really fucked up, you know that?” Ennis had no idea why it chose now, but the message still rang true.

“Alright, cowboy, ya need ta get outta yer head before ya get lost in there.” Jack turned around, looking over his shoulder at Ennis before jerking his head toward the inside of the cabin. “Now, c’mon, get inside.”

Ennis followed Jack obediently, and quietly closed the door behind him. It was only polite. The moment his back was turned, he felt Jack crowding him from behind, smelled the smoke and sweat scent that was uniquely Jack.

“Been waitin’ fer so long,” Jack murmured, his breath hot on Ennis’ neck. “Must’ve been, what, thirty-five years?”

Ennis didn’t respond, a bit at a loss for what to do. Jack’s statement rung in his ears like a badly-hit bell.

“Ennis?” Jack’s voice lost a bit of its heat, gaining a bit of worry instead.

“This… This ain’t a dream, is it?”

Ennis felt the loss as Jack stepped back a bit, and let Jack turn him around so they were facing each other. They were too close, close in that intimate way that made Ennis’ hackles rise up. Jack’s eyes were so deeply blue that Ennis was sure he was drowning.

“No, darlin’, this ain’t a dream,” he confirmed, solemnly. Jack cupped Ennis’ face, thumbing his cheek in that gentle way that made Ennis’ heart beat funny.

“I’m really…?” Ennis trailed off, not quite wanting to finish the sentence, because then it would be real. Jack nodded. “Then you’re…?”

“I’m here, Ennis, I’m here.”

At that, something in Ennis broke. He grabbed Jack and hugged him with all he had without even thinking. He felt tears creep down his cheeks, and pulled back to rub them away. Men weren’t supposed to cry, but here he was, bawling like a baby. His cheeks were a bit red with both embarrassment and tears, and they only grew redder when Jack planted a kiss on each one. It was tender in a way that Ennis was still a bit anxious about.

“Jack…” Ennis began, but stopped, realizing he didn’t know where to go with the statement. Jack only nodded, grabbing one of Ennis’ hands in a firm grip and leading him to a small couch in the front room. There was a fireplace chattering close by, and the heat made Ennis realize how cold he was.

“Sit down. I’ll get ya somethin’ ta drink,” Jack said, letting go of Ennis’ hand. Ennis immediately grabbed it again, before awkwardly letting it go. Ennis looked down at the hardwood floor, blushing furiously. Jack gave a soft laugh. “I could stay, if ya want.”

“‘m fine,” Ennis replied, trying to make his voice sound gruff. It cracked slightly, and Ennis swallowed thickly. He risked a glance up at Jack; Jack was looking at him with a soft, warm look blooming from the depths of his blue eyes, and Ennis’ stomach went all mushy in that way that it only did around Jack, in that way that always made him want to run for the hills for both of their sakes, in that way that always kept him coming back for more.

Jack nodded, standing in front of Ennis for a moment as if checking to make sure he was truly alright, before walking to an adjacent room. Immediately, Ennis felt the loss of Jack’s presence, but he was too stubbornly proud to trail after the man like a lost dog, not after all this time. He turned towards the fireplace, warming his hands by the flames.

“What’s it like?” Ennis called out in the vague direction that Jack had gone - the kitchen, ostensibly.

“What’s what like?” Jack called back.

“Bein’ dead.”

“Pretty much the same as bein’ alive, ‘cept ya can’t die twice.” Jack poked his head into the doorway, grinning. “If ya get hurt, ya heal pretty damn fast. Knew one kid who broke his foot jumpin’ from a cliff and could walk jus’ fine by the end of the day.”

Ennis nodded, taking off his hat and fiddling with it as he looked around the cabin. It was decorated warmly, with two couches - including the one Ennis was currently sitting on - set next to the stone fireplace. There were a lot of windows, each framed by autumn-red curtains that made the light glow warmly whenever it passed through. There were a lot of shelves, all covered with various knickknacks, most of which Ennis didn’t recognize. A small bit of him bit nervously at that, at the idea that Jack had been through things without Ennis there. Another part of him growled that it was Ennis who made that choice to begin with. A third part, one that was buried deep in the crevasses of his soul, whispered things that reminded Ennis of blood and corpses and tire irons. He wrung his hat like it had wronged him.

“Ennis?” Ennis jumped as he realized that Jack was suddenly standing next to him, holding two glasses of whiskey, the bottle they likely came from held neatly under his arm. Jack placed them both down on the table, setting the bottle next to them; he studied Ennis with that feverish intensity that Ennis feared and loved in equal measure. Whatever he found made him give a lopsided grin, the kind that was more for appearances than anything else. “Guess ya weren’t expectin’ this, huh?” Jack gestured to the cabin, and then to himself. In a way, he was right: Ennis never expected Jack, never had. Jack was a weird, beautiful, terrifying surprise.

“Wasn’t expectin’ to be dead.” Jack blinked a few times before letting his shoulders sag slightly in relief. He flopped down on the couch next to Ennis, moving close enough that they were touching. Ennis flinched at the contact, but didn’t move away.

“Don’t think there’s anyone who expects his death.”

Ennis grunted in agreement, but was still wringing his hat. He gulped, then turned to face Jack. “Did you expect…”

Jack raised an eyebrow and let out a small huff of laughter. “‘course I didn’t. Nobody expects ta die while changin’ a tire.” He put his arm around Ennis’ shoulder, and caught the relief that let the muscles in Ennis’ back relax slightly. Jack knew better than to comment on it, and filed the moment away for another conversation. They had a lot of time, after all.

Ennis placed the hat on the coffee table in front of them before finally relaxing into the couch; it was plush in a way that no piece of furniture in Ennis’ life had ever been. It seemed to suck away his fatigue like a straw and replace it was languorous bliss. Without realizing it, he had let his head rest on Jack’s shoulder. With every breath, he inhaled a bit of Jack’s scent, let the familiarity roll over him in waves.

At some point Jack had started idly playing with Ennis’ hair, and Ennis sighed into the touch despite himself. If he was honest with himself - something Ennis rarely was - this was what he had wanted. He hummed his appreciation when Jack kissed his forehead, feeling the smile on Jack’s lips through the touch. Ennis let his eyes fall closed.

“Tired?” Jack said, his voice soft.

Ennis made a noise that could only be interpreted as an affirmative, and nuzzled Jack’s shoulder.

“C’mon, cowboy, ya can’t sleep here,” Jack murmured, standing up and pulling Ennis with him. “C’mon now.”

Ennis nodded, obviously loath to leave the comfort of the couch, but even more loath to be away from Jack for more than a few seconds. He followed Jack to a room just out of sight of the front entrance.

It was obviously a bedroom, and, judging by the slight chaos of the room, it was definitely Jack’s. There were even more knickknacks - Ennis recognized more of these, he realized with a faint bit of satisfaction - scattered about, most of which lined the various shelves. A wardrobe stood proudly next to a desk, which in turn was placed by another door. Ennis would’ve been curious about where the door led, were he not distracted by the large double bed in the center of the room; he just barely resisted the urge to flop down on it and sleep. The bed was half unmade, and had enough blankets to smother a whole stampede of cows. Ennis stood awkwardly as Jack closed the door behind him, unsure what he was expected to do.

Jack gave him a light shove towards the bed. “Ya need ta sleep before we get to talkin’ ‘bout this,” Jack gestured between the two of them. Ennis nodded, though his fatigue made it difficult for him to fully comprehend what was going on.

“Alright.” Ennis sat down on the made side of the bed, and began pulling off his boots, then his socks. He seemed to contemplate taking off more, but apparently thought the better of it, instead opting to wrap himself under the covers. Jack gave a short laugh and walked over, placing a kiss on his forehead. He began to walk off, but Ennis’ hand shot out and grabbed one of his beltloops.

“Don’t go,” Ennis whispered. Jack nodded, climbing onto the bed. He made it over to his side - it was still messy, because Jack just couldn’t see the purpose in remaking a bed if he was going to just get in it again - and threw off his boots and socks before snuggling under the covers with Ennis. It took less than a second for Ennis’ arms to be around Jack, pulling him close as if Ennis was afraid he might float away.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Jack said, planting a soft, tender kiss on Ennis’ lips. “I promise ya that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that if Jack had lived he would've been in pride parades. He seems the type.  
> Also, I could continue this, but I dunno if I will.


End file.
